


a rosary i recite with teeth

by unveils



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Choking, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rope Bondage, not cult end joseph just sad sappy kinkman with kink hands joseph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 09:24:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11711532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unveils/pseuds/unveils
Summary: “Fuck,” It feels good to say it out loud, even if his voice turns it to gravel, as pathetic and needy as he feels. “God fucking fuck, Christiansen, you goddamn sadist.”Joseph just laughs, not mocking at all.





	a rosary i recite with teeth

**Author's Note:**

> like zoinks, scoob. two fics in 1 day! be sure you check the tags for content warnings. title is from scherezade siobhan's 'come palabra'.

The thing about Joseph is, he’s got a way of fucking Robert up with some weird tunnel vision shit. With Joseph, he can’t see the full of things like they are, can’t wrap his mind around all of the parts when Joseph’s standing so dead center, sucking up all the space in the room. Case in point, Mary’s too good for Joseph. She doesn’t deserve to be tied to a man who’s preoccupied with some fucked up fantasy future that doesn’t involve her, and she certainly doesn’t deserve the baggage load of shit she has to constantly carry around on her back for it. 

Robert knows it. 

Case in point: When Joseph finds him in the dark, those sad fucking eyes making Robert believe there’s something  _ real  _ there below the cracked surface -- something real that snared on his loose ends and dragged him deep -- Robert loses the edges of his vision, and the knowledge that doing this to himself means doing it to Mary, too.

The full of it is that she’s too good for the both of them.

With Joseph he always winds up here, knocking back whiskey while Joseph offers smiles that pull straight to his heart where it beats in his throat. 

Robert lets himself fall through the motions more easily tonight than he usually does, accepting the hand that falters hopelessly inside his space for what it is: an anchor for Robert’s fingers to grapple onto. Robert’s already mostly in when Joseph asks, polite and well-mannered even now that he’s sprawled across Robert’s lap, voice hot, hand palming him steadily through his jeans. 

“I thought we could try something different tonight.” 

And hell, Robert’s made a lot of jokes about Joseph’s knot-tying ability in all the years he’s lived in this neighborhood, it’s about time they came back to bite him in the ass. 

The ropes aren’t rough enough that it irritates his wrists when he pulls against the binds, but still firm enough that it’s a thrill when he can force them to bite into his skin. He’s half bent over his headboard, hands tied above his head and legs spread wide while Joseph works him over from the back, painstakingly slow and sweet. He’s been so hard so long it  _ hurts _ , Joseph’s fingers tightening at the base of his dick every time the relentless press of his fingers against Robert’s prostate drags him close enough to the edge to be a threat. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” It feels good to say it out loud, even if his voice turns it to gravel, as pathetic and needy as he feels. “God fucking  _ fuck _ , Christiansen, you goddamn sadist.”

Joseph just laughs, not mocking at all, and Robert groans for it, shoulders twitching with the burn of the position. 

The truth is, Robert loves this -- loves letting Joseph turn him inside out, loves the way it hurts just  _ enough _ , just  _ right _ . Loves the way Joseph walks a line straight enough for the both of them, hands ready to catch Robert before he falls. 

“You look beautiful like this, you know.” Joseph’s too close, lips pressing soft to meet the point where sweat is beading heavy on Robert’s neck. Robert can’t stop shuddering, mouth falling open around words he can’t find when Joseph twists another finger inside of him, ruthless with the way he gives Robert no time at all to adjust to the stretch of the burn before scissoring all three of them. “Fucking perfect, all tied up for me. Think you could take another?”

His dick fucking  _ twitches  _ against his hip at the idea and Robert has to gnash his teeth down to keep the whine in his throat because fuck no, he can’t, with the way he’s going. His head falls between his shoulder blades and he grinds back against Joseph’s fingers, desperate, shameless for it.

Robert doesn’t need to see him to know that Joseph’s getting off on this as much as he is, on the way Robert can’t keep himself from spilling everything, even if he doesn’t say it. 

Joseph’s voice is light and airy, fluffed like he’s consoling some fragile thing. “Or maybe you need a break to take the edge off.” 

Robert  _ won’t  _ beg, he won’t fucking do it even if there’s a ‘please’ teasing in his throat. Joseph pulls his fingers free and Robert does whine, this time, hips thrusting up to meet air. “Fuck you.” He spits, because it’s easy, because he has to say  _ something _ , because he’s fucked out and reaching the end of his rope, feeling so fucking empty, so fucking desperate. “C’mon,  _ c’mon _ .”

In an instant, there’s a hand at his throat, pulling his head back up against Joseph’s shoulder. The grip isn’t tight enough to be satisfying, but it goes straight to Robert’s dick anyway. He feels it when Joseph teases his dick against his entrance, breath hitching against his ear. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Jesus fuck,” Too desperate, too much. “God, just do it,  _ please _ \--” 

And it’s hardly an order the way it slurs from his mouth, but it does the trick.

Joseph’s hand tightens around his throat when he pushes in and Robert tries gasping for air he doesn’t have, can’t get. It’s so fucking good all at once, how full he feels even before Joseph bottoms out, how right the press of Joseph’s chest against his back is after ages of light touching. He’s vaguely aware of the noises he’s making, how obscene they must sound, how loud it would be even beyond the walls of his bedroom if Joseph didn’t let go of his throat to press a firm hand over his mouth.  

“Robert,  _ Christ-- _ ” And if Joseph losing his composure doesn’t just fucking  _ do it  _ for him. “Sweetheart, you’re so good. So good to me,  _ for  _ me.” 

There’s nothing in the fucking world that could keep him from coming when Joseph wraps a hand around his dick, strokes it once, twice. It’s all he needs to spill over, vision going white hot as he shudders through the orgasm. Joseph follows after with a kiss Robert thinks he can’t really feel, pulling Robert’s hips back hard enough that he’s practically seated on Joseph’s lap by the time he starts to feel the afterglow. 

Joseph’s got him pulled free of the ropes, wrist burns pressed against his lips when he finally comes down. His bed is a fucking cesspool of come and sweat and lube, but he feels light all over, sentimental in the ways that count enough to let Joseph do this. 

He’ll regret it in the morning -- everything up to letting Joseph in, being stupid enough to let Joseph this deep under his skin in the first place -- but for now, Joseph’s too warm and too close to pretend he wants anything but the blur around the edges of his vision. 


End file.
